Interlude
by KyrieofAccender
Summary: Oneshot, EC fluff. Just before the events at the start of ALW's musical, Christine and Erik are both having difficulty sleeping, so they sing to each other across nighttime Paris. Inspired by the song Good Night, My Someone from The Music Man.


A/N: This is one of those wonderful-yet-horrible 1:15 AM brainstorms; wonderful because they quite often turn out good material, horrible because if you don't go write it down then and there, you'll never get to sleep. Disclaimer: I do not own Erik or Christine, or the song "Good Night, My Someone." The former belong to Gaston Leroux, ALW, the RUG, et cetera, et cetera, while the latter belongs to Meredith Wilson. PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE review! Enjoy!

_Interlude_

Christine could not sleep. Her cozy little flat in Paris was filled with the silence that comes with night, but her head was filled with music and thoughts of her Angel.

Her Angel of Music… her mysterious teacher had been coming to her for months now, talking to and comforting her, teaching her with his heavenly voice… Christine smiled and sighed at the thought of that beautiful voice, of how kind and gentle he was to her. Because of this, she had, in an impossible-to-explain way, begun to fall in love with him, even though she had never seen him. It didn't matter, really – she would be content to merely listen to him sing for as long as she lived, forever.

Christine got out of bed and went to stand by the window, looking out over the rooftops of Paris to the sky. One particular star shone very bright above her – perhaps her Angel of Music watching over her? She fancied she heard a faint melody carried to her ears and she smiled warmly as she began to sing to her Angel:

"_Good night, my someone,_

_Good night, my love._

_Sleep tight, my someone,_

_Sleep tight, my love._

_Our star is shining its brightest light,_

_For good night, my love, for goodnight_…"

Across Paris and deep beneath the Opera House, Erik, Christine's Angel, ceased his composing. Restlessly, he grabbed his hat and cloak and walked out into the dark, deserted Parisian streets. He sang softly to himself; his head was just as occupied by thoughts of Christine as hers was of him.

"_Sweet dreams be yours, dear,_

_If dreams there be – _

_Sweet dreams to carry you close to me._

_I wish they may and I wish they might,_

_Now good night, my someone, good night_…"

Erik's feet carried him aimlessly as he thought about Christine. He longed to show her who he truly was, to tell her how much he loved her… but he had yet to gather the courage.

"'_True love can be whispered from heart to heart,_

_When lovers are parted,' they say_…"

Blocks away, Christine unknowingly finished her mysterious teacher's phrase:

"_But I must depend on a wish and a star,_

_As long as my heart doesn't know who you are_…"

Both began to sing together, then, separated by walls and distance, but bound together in spirit. Each could somehow hear the other as though they were imagining it, a faint, gentle whisper in their minds:

"_Sweet dreams be yours, dear,_

_If dreams there be,_

_Sweet dreams to carry you close to me._

_I wish they may and I wish they might,_

_Now good night, my someone, good night_…"

Christine fell silent for a moment as her Angel softly sang the words "Good night" once again, with such loving tenderness that she closed her eyes and smiled warmly. After a moment, she repeated the words as well, letting her voice soar, then slowly fade. With one last look up at the sky and her bright evening star, Christine climbed back into bed and fell asleep quickly, her dreams full of her Angel's voice…

Now nearby, Erik heard Christine's "Good night" as though in a dream. He chuckled a little and smiled.

"_Bonne nuit, mon ange_." he whispered, turning back to the Opera. It was best that he get some sleep as well – he could never know what tomorrow might hold.

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A/N: I know it's a bit silly, but you can't help those early morning brainstorms, can you? Now, you see that little blue button there next to the "Submit Review" bar? Click it. Now. OK, fine, I'll ask nicely: Pretty please with lots and lots of cherries on top? Come on, don't make me beg any more than that! Review! – Kyrie


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